


Your Healing Touch

by NotAnAct



Category: Actor RPF, The 100 (TV) RPF
Genre: F/M, Filming, Hurt/Comfort, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 11:10:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21035291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotAnAct/pseuds/NotAnAct
Summary: Paige isn't feeling well, and Ian is his tender, comforting self.





	Your Healing Touch

"Paige," Ian murmured, walking up to her and resting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

She stared up at him in a daze, eyes watering, nose red and dry, before turning a cough into her arm. 

Abby sounded hoarse today, and not just from Paige’s unhealthy habits. 

"Paige," he repeated, voice gentle and soothing. He brought a single finger to her cheek to brush a few sweaty hairs away from her flushed cheek. She must have been running a fever.

"What?" she whispered, lashes fluttering as she leaned into his finger. It made her sway on her feet ever so slightly. Her head felt heavier than a bowling ball.

"You need to sit down." 

He gave her a firm but comforting look all at once and guided her to a quiter corner of the set where they could watch the crew get ready for the next take.

He was the kindest, gentlest man she knew, always making sure she ate or rested, even doting from afar with concerned, brown eyes across busy rooms. It made her heart flutter.

He sat down, back against the wall, and drew her down with him, wrapping a long arm around her shoulder and pulling her into his massive frame. Normally, her nostrils would flare from the hints of his cologne and soap, now faded from a long day of work and replaced with layers of sweat and leather from Kane’s uniform.. But today she couldn’t smell a damn thing. 

She must have looked bad, gauging by the level of worry radiating from his knit brows and pursed lips. He was looking at her like she was about to break. 

"I'm sick, Ian, I'm not dying," she rasped, throat hoarse and mouth dry.

"You shouldn't even be here today. You should be home resting."

"Jason would probably get back at me by cutting another Kabby scene," she teased, the tongue-in-cheek fan-given name for their characters leaving her lips with a teasing smile.

He only grimaced. There was too much truth to her statement, playful or not. They both knew it.

"Well, they haven't even finished lighting the scene. You have time to rest. Do you want me to get you a tea?" he offered, giving her a gentle squeeze with his arm.

She shook her head and coughed into her arm again.

"I'm good. But thank you.”

He smiled down at her, warm and affectionate and tender in a way that reached his eyes and made them wrinkle.

"Rest," he commanded gently, voice barely above a murmur. She swore she could feel his lips brush her hair for a moment, but she must have been feverish. Delirious. Out of her mind. She shivered anyway, from her overheated body temperature of course, not the idea of him kissing her head in such an intimate gesture. 

She sat there, leaning against him for a quiet eternity, mind drifting in and out of consciousness. She figured she was hallucinating some more, because she felt him gently guide her head down into his lap, fingers tangling into her hair and caressing, gently kneading her scalp in a soothing manner that lulled her to sleep.

The sound of her own horrible, open-mouthed, labored breathing caused her to stir, and she tilted her head up to look at the silhouette of his dark face. His pointed jaw tilted down and he glanced at her, smiling faintly but with so much love and adoration that she melted a little. 

"You were out," he said quietly. "They're not ready for us yet. Get some more rest."

She nodded weakly, head spinning a little, and face weighed down by the pounding congestion inside of her sinuses and tinny ears.

So she closed her eyes and snuggled down a little more, batting encouragingly at his now-still hand resting against her scalp. He chuckled and responded knowingly by caressing her hair again. She smiled.

It felt like hours later, even though it was probably only twenty minutes, when he gently shook her and and brushed two tender, callused fingers against her temple to wake her.

"Paige," he breathed, gently helping her sit. "They need us at our marks now. Are you going to be able to make it?"

She nodded, reluctant to separate herself from his comforting body. She resisted the urge to rub her eyes so makeup didn't have her head. It was a wonder her eyelashes were still in place the way her eyes had been watering all day long. She wanted nothing more than to peel them off and rub.

When she failed to answer, he stared down at her with more concern, lifting a hand to cup her cheek. 

"If you're too sick, we can do this another day."

"No... no. I can do this. We're done after we get the take. I can do it," she repeated prior to a sniffle, doing her best to give him a reassuring smile.

"Okay," he said reluctantly, searching her eyes for any sign she was lying to him. She  _ did  _ feel like crap, but what was another two hours to film an easy scene? She'd been to set feeling worse than this before in her lifetime. 

He dropped his hand from her cheek and gave her shoulder a squeeze, before practically lifted her to her feet. He was so strong. But "there was nothing to her,” he would probably say. She rolled her eyes lovingly at the thought. He was always trying to fatten her up.

With one giant hand against the small of her back, he guided her to their marks and watched from a few feet away as makeup gave them both a quick touch-up and a few booms were moved around. She smiled over at him and he smiled back, an inside joke hiding behind his laughing eyes. She wasn't sure which one it was, but it was probably "hang in there, Turco" or "I wonder how much of this scene will ever see the light of day?" She grinned at the idea and sighed, closing her eyes as a powder brush dusted her cheeks.

Reaching out blindly towards him, she felt his hand meet hers and give a reassuring squeeze.  _ She could do this. _


End file.
